A perimeter was set, and the area sealed off. However, Carter knew that John and Sam were well away from there already. They had basically sealed off the air.

Her phone rang and she stepped away from Donnelly and a few police officers. "Don't tell me," she answered the phone, "They have to come back over here because they left something in the chopper."

"I'm afraid not, Detective," Finch said over the phone. "They, along with Detective Fusco, have been captured by what used to be HR. They are heading to the safe house where Brander and Lovell are being kept. Any help you can provide would be appreciated."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm heading over there now."

"What's your plan, Finch? Are you going to wave your laptop at them until they surrender?" Carter smiled at the visual image in her head.

"I was hoping you could help me with the details, Detective."

Carter looked around and sighed, frustrated. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Sooner rather than later would be preferable." He hung up.

"This isn't the place," John said.

Sam turned around in her seat. John was leaning forward, looking out the window of the SUV. "What is it then? Where are we?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't specific enough for you," Lewis said smugly. "They were just relocated. Sometimes it pays when you're dealing with someone who can't tell the difference between a cop and an ex cop." Lewis grinned.

"How did you figure where they were in the first place?" Lionel asked hotly.

"I still have some friends on the force, Fusco." Lewis jabbed his weapon at Sam.

"I doubt that."

"Get out."

Sam stepped out of the SUV onto the street. Lionel and Lee followed suit with a little more difficulty, using their cuffed hands. Two men were already outside, waiting for them. One of them grabbed onto Sam, most likely making certain that she wouldn't take advantage of still having her hands free.

They walked in a line up to the house and through the front door.

Sam entered what probably was the living room and saw two men sitting back to back on wooden chairs. Their hands and legs were tied to the chairs, and their faces and heads were covered by black hoods. They twitched in response to the voices and footsteps entering the room.

She stared at them, transfixed. She slowed until she stood there, in the middle of the room, her eyes locked on the two prisoners. Though she still wasn't able to see their faces, she couldn't keep from looking at them.

"Make it neat," Lewis said.

His voice brought Sam away from wherever she'd been, and she soon realized that John hadn't followed them into the house.

More chairs were brought in from another room, and Sam was pushed into one of them, a gun held to her head as they began to tie her up. Where was John?

Sam kept her eyes on the doorway. Shots were fired on the street. Judging from the quality of the neighborhood, that probably was a usual occurrence, but it got everyone's attention nonetheless.

Lionel sat up, exchanging a glance with Sam. "Where is he?"

Lewis turned his weapon onto them. "Everyone back up! You two! Go and check it out," he nodded to a couple of his accomplices.

Leaving her potential bonds on the floor, Sam grabbed onto Lee and backed up with Lionel into a corner of the room, hoping that what was happening was what she thought was happening. John had somehow freed himself and taken out the two men in the back seat of the car without anyone noticing. It was possible, but damn, he was good. Then, she remembered, the seatbelts. He must have done something right then to get out of the cuffs.

Lewis stood, his weapon trained on the door along with one other man. They waited, Sam right with them. Everyone in the room held their breath, waiting for what was going to happen next, whatever that may be.

A body was tossed through the doorway. Lewis and his man fired off a couple shots each until they realized they were shooting at one of their own. He landed on the tile entryway, and kept still.

The last of Lewis' men walked over to him. He crouched down over him and had his head forced into the door jam for his trouble. He went down as well.

Lewis was all that was left as John walked in, his eyes blazing. His weapon was trained on Lewis' forehead.

"You're all alone now," John said. The pair of handcuffs still dangled from his right wrist. "Put the gun down."

The nearest weapon was the one that belonged to the unfortunate man who had his head slammed into the wall. He wasn't moving, and the gun was across the room, behind John. Still at a loss for anything to do, Sam waited, holding onto Lee, and keeping close to Lionel.

Lewis backed up, coming closer to the three of them. He quickly turned, grabbed Sam by the arm, ripping her away from Lee and his father, and held her firmly in front of him. He pressed himself against her back, holding her arm at an awkward angle, so if she moved, it would hurt like hell.

Sam felt the cold barrel of the gun against her temple, and Lewis' vice like grip around her.

"Where are the others?" Lewis asked.

He breathed down Sam's neck. She resisted the urge to try and pull away and kept her eyes focused on John. His weapon was pointed at Lewis, but his eyes were on her, always on her as Lewis tried to move both he and Sam around to the opposite side of the room.

"I didn't kill them, if that's what you're asking," John said steadily. "I can extend the same courtesy to you if you let her go and put the gun down, now."

Lewis' grip didn't loosen. In fact, he held onto Sam tighter until she let out a short yell from the pain coursing through her arm and side.

"What's your plan now, Lewis?" John asked. "You have nowhere else to go."

"I've got plenty of places," Lewis spat.

"Really?" John said darkly. "You screwed up one of Elias' operations, and you think that someone else in the underworld will open their door to you?"

Even Sam felt a shiver of fear at the tone John's voice took on. It was as though his voice was made from the darkness itself.

Lewis didn't have the chance to respond. He paused along with Sam. The entire room went still, listening to a distant sound, an engine coming up the street at high speed.

"Down!" John shouted. He leaped for Sam as the noise of the engine grew louder and bullets started flying in, shattering the windows and the walls.

She was knocked back by John's tackle, and clung onto him as they hit the floor. He surrounded her completely as Lewis fell to the floor next to them. His eyes were wide with frozen surprise, never to blink again. The noise lasted for a few seconds as bullets flew overhead. Sam squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, digging her nails into John's shirt.

Her ears rang and thudded to the rhythm of John's nearby heartbeat. Sam opened her eyes. Most of her vision was obscured by John's shoulder, the rest was the ceiling of the house. He was sprawled over her, like a great big, protective blanket.

"Is everyone all right?" John asked the room at large.

"We're all right," Lionel said from the corner.

"Sam?" John lifted his head and looked at her, their noses nearly touching.

The fact that John was lying on top of her took a back seat to the situation at hand. "What is going on?" she said breathlessly, and grunted. "Who shot at us? John, you're crushing my pelvis."

John rolled off of her and they sat up just in time to see Scarface enter the house through the still open doorway. He kicked the body of one of the ex cops aside. He was followed closely by a few other men, and Elias, who moseyed in as if he'd just been out for an evening stroll and came to see what the ruckus was about.

"I'm seeing ghosts, boss," Scarface said.

"Indeed. Quite ingenious, Samantha," Elias said. "Though, I had always suspected." His dark eyes snapped to the side of the room where Brander and Lovell were still tied up.

"Are they alive?"

"Yeah."

"How did you find us?" Sam asked as she was wrenched to her feet by yet another henchman.

"We've been tracking this project the entire time, Samantha," Elias answered helpfully. He stepped over the broken glass, Lewis' body, and approached Lionel and Lee who remained crouched together on the floor.

Elias reached toward Lee who jerked away quickly. "I promise I won't hurt you."

The boy must have believed him, because he allowed Elias to slip his finger just inside his sneaker. He extracted a small, electronic device, a GPS tracker. It had been on Lee the entire time. That explained how they knew where and who to crash into at the right moment.

"Unfortunately, I had the distinct feeling that I would have to clean up after Officer Lewis here," Elias looked down at Lewis' body and shook his head sadly. "I suppose I have you to thank for the trail of bodies in and outside the house, John?"

John didn't answer. He only glared at Elias as he too was hefted off of the floor, put into a chair and tied to it.

"Make sure the knots will hold," Elias said. "He has a knack for escaping, this one."

Sam was forced into another chair against the back of John's. The same was happening to Lionel and Lee.

"Please, let the boy go, at least," Sam said, looking at Lee. "He has no part in this."

"A fact that should have been considered much earlier, wouldn't you agree Samantha?"

Elias moved around to her as his men thoroughly bound them all to the chairs, right along with Brander and Lovell. He squatted down in front of Sam, a strange, curious smile on his lips.

"Stop for a minute," he touched his peon on the shoulder and he stopped tying Sam to the chair.

"Now that you're dead, things must be so much easier for you." Elias pulled at the bindings around her legs, loosening them as he spoke. "There's a strange sort of freedom that comes with it, isn't there?"

Behind the glasses, Elias' eyes looked past her for a moment, and rested on her again.

Fear at his meaning crawled up through her stomach and chest, spreading through her limbs until it got into her head.

"Have you told him yet?" he asked quietly.

The fear turned into terror at the question. Sam swallowed it down and looked away from him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll take that as a firm 'no'." Elias smiled, patting her on the knee. "You are brave, Samantha. But that takes a certain kind of bravery, doesn't it? Also a certain kind… of certainty, wouldn't you say?"

"You've lost me," Sam said, meeting his eyes again. If she could have killed him with her stare, she would have right then.

"It won't matter much in the long run, anyway," he got to his feet, still smiling. "I should probably thank all of you for doing a lot of the work for me before I arrived. You see, I don't recommend trusting ex cops. They are disloyal, greedy, and a lot of the time, stupid." Elias' eyes moved over Lionel as he spoke.

"You were planning to get rid of them all along," Lionel spat angrily.

"I had hoped they would have finished the job they were assigned first, but that's life for you."

Sam, still not tied to her chair, looked up and saw Elias watching her very closely. His wheels were turning, and she didn't like it.

"Sam," he said slowly. "I have a little present for you before we leave." He walked over and pulled the hoods off of his ex henchmen. "I don't believe you know Jerrod and Casey, do you?"

Sam's eyes rested upon the two killers. They blinked in the light as their eyes adjusted, and looked back at her. They weren't much older than her, and looked much more scared than she felt.

Elias wandered over to the doorway, picked up a stray gun and approached Sam with it. Sam never took her eyes off of the two men. John was right. She found herself studying their faces, memorizing every detail, every inch, knowing that theirs were the last faces her parents saw.

A weight was set in her open hand. Sam looked down to her lap and saw the gun resting in her palm. She looked up at Elias, then at Brander and Lovell.

"Sam?" John's voice seemed very distant although he was right next to her. "Sam what's he doing?" He tried twisting around in his seat to get a better view, but he couldn't budge.

"I'm giving her the chance that doesn't come to most people," Elias answered. "You know your way around something like this, Samantha," he indicated the weapon resting in her hand, "I can personally attest to that."

Elias took her by her arms and helped her stand up. "Hold it, like I know you can."

Sam raised the weapon in both hands, pointing it at Brander first, who stared back at her like a frightened dog.

Elias was there, in her ear, like an insect looking for a nest. "It is astonishing, the high you can get out of vengeance. But you have to do it right. They have to know why, Samantha. Tell them why."

"They killed my parents," Sam said mechanically.

"Tell them, Samantha."

"You killed my parents," she spoke louder, to their faces. Sam cocked the weapon, and her hands were surprisingly steady as she held it.

Two shots, that's all it would take. Bam! Bam! And it would be over. They would have gotten what they deserve rather than the easy punishment with parole that they'd most likely receive.

No. It had to be more than that. Perhaps she'd shoot them in a place that wasn't too vital; let them bleed; let them beg for death first. Perhaps they'd understand the pain she already knew. Then she'd give it to them, give them death, revive them somehow, and kill them all over again.

There were so many ways it could be done. There they were, her parents' killers, bound and gagged, served on a silver platter, waiting to be sliced open, carved and plated. Why did they look so afraid? How could they value their lives so highly? It was ludicrous. They had taken lives, which made theirs forfeit for Sam to do with as she pleased.

The voice in her ear spoke again. "They killed your parents, Samantha. What do you want to do with them? I'm leaving it up to you."

"I want," Sam hesitated, her reasoning fighting against the thick fog of hate that had enveloped her thoughts.

"What do you want, Samantha?"

"Sam. Would your Dad want you to murder two defenseless men?"

John's voice cut through the fog like a beam of sunlight.

Sam blinked the tears out of her eyes. They ran hotly down her face.

"What do you want?" Elias' voice was louder, stronger.

"You are not a killer, Sam," John said. His voice was soft enough that Sam had to strain to hear it. "You are kind, warm. You can make people smile without even saying a word. That is not the same woman who could murder someone in cold blood."

"Where would you be if your family was still alive?" Elias' voice was back, more intense than before. "You don't know. How can you know, Samantha? You will never know, because they were taken from you – ripped out of your life by carelessness and stupidity. Take your chance now."

The internal war Sam was fighting on her own was not gaining ground in either direction. She didn't know which one was Brander or Lovell, and she didn't care. They were both responsible. Sam repositioned the weapon, holding it stiffly in front of her. She looked down the center of the gun at a spot on the forehead of the first killer.

"Sam, don't," John said. "You asked me if I took vengeance for the person I loved. I didn't. Killing is almost never the answer, Sam. You know that. You're smarter and better than this, I know you are."

"Your parents deserved better," Elias said.

Sam fired.